


A Natural Kind of Guy

by clgfanfic



Category: Counterstrike (TV)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-10-29
Updated: 2012-10-29
Packaged: 2017-11-17 08:15:56
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,590
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/549479
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/clgfanfic/pseuds/clgfanfic
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Stone is a natural kinda guy...</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Natural Kind of Guy

**Author's Note:**

> Originally published in the zine One in Ten #4 under the pen name Chris Alexander.

Driving back to Toronto, Peter Sinclair watched his partner, Hector Stone, brooding in his peripheral vision.  Riding in the front passenger seat, the American was locked in his own thoughts, his arms folded tightly across his chest, his gaze fixed on the passing scenery outside the window.  Occasionally the man drew in a deep breath, then let it out in a long, soft sigh.

Glancing into the rearview mirror Sinclair saw that his other partner, Gabrielle Germont, was curled up on the seat, sound asleep.  Reaching out, he squeezed Stone's shoulder, saying quietly, "Come on, Sport, we did the best we could."

"It wasn't enough," Stone muttered equally quietly.  "That kid's still an orphan."  The image of the twelve-year-old boy's dead parents flashed though the ex-SEAL's mind – the woman with her chest blow open, the man, missing most of his skull after he'd turned the shotgun on himself.  Both were victims of a greedy man's plan to create a biological weapon he could sell on the black market, or use on his perceived enemies.

"Now, come on," Peter continued, "the boy has an extended family who'll look out for him.  He won't be alone."

"Yeah," Stone grumbled, scrubbing a hand over his face, "I know, but I can't help thinkin' I let 'im down."

Sinclair flashed his lover a grin.  "I think he understood we did all we could.  Now it's time for those people to rebuild their lives."  When it appeared that his words had made no impact, he added, "There's nothing to keep you from going back later on, you know – to check on him."

Stone nodded, still looking out the passenger window.  "Yeah, I guess that's true. And I might just do that."

"I'd be disappointed if you didn't, Sport."

Stone relaxed, reaching up to pat the back of Sinclair's hand.  "You, uh, got any plans tonight?" he asked.  "A hot date?"

"Oh, just one," Peter replied casually.

"Mmm," Stone said, looking back out the window.  "Where are you takin' her?"

"I meant you," Sinclair chided softly.

"If you two get together later, I want to watch," drifted sleepily from the back seat, laced with a French accent.

Sinclair almost laughed at the way Stone's face turned red, his ears even redder. But then he realized that his own cheeks were burning.  "I thought you were sleeping," he grumbled instead.

Gabrielle sat up, smiling.  "No, just resting.  So, what do you say?"

"No," Stone replied intensely.

"Absolutely not," Sinclair added.

"Ah, come on, Stone.  I thought you said you were a natural kind of a guy.  What's more natural than sex?"

"No!" Stone and Sinclair replied in unison.

The pretty blonde journalist sighed loudly and lay back down.  "You two are no fun, you do know that, don't you?"

Sinclair smiled devilishly.  "That all depends on who you ask, Gabrielle."

Stone blushed again and rolled his eyes.

 

* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *

 

Back in Toronto, Peter dropped Gabrielle off at her flat, then drove Stone back to the apartment they now shared.  The two men climbed the stairs slowly, both tired and achy.

Inside the large two bedroom apartment, Peter closed the door and locked it, then headed straight to their shared master bedroom, slipping off his jacket as he went. Stone followed, walking over to the king-sized bed.  He sat down and untied his shoes. "You wanna take a shower?"

Sinclair nodded.  "Sounds good, then some sleep."

"No argument from me," Stone replied, standing and stripping off of his clothes while the blond watched.

"But I can wish I wasn't so exhausted," Sinclair sighed, then undressed as well.

In the large, two-head shower they each shampooed, then soaped and rinsed.  The necessities done, they both stood under the hot spray, letting the heat work its way into their tired muscles.  When the water began to cool, they turned off the water, toweled dry and headed for the bedroom.

Sinclair walked over to the window, and reaching behind the closed curtains, pulled down the sun shade to darken the room.  Stone pulled down the covers and climbed in on the right side.  He checked the alarm clock to make sure it wasn't set, then settled back with the covers pulled up around his shoulders.

Sinclair sat down on the left side, then checked to make sure that the phone on the nightstand had the ringer turned down, but the answering machine up so he could hear if Addington called.  That done, he slipped in under the blankets as well.

"Night," Stone said.

"Good night," Peter replied, sleep already tugging him into its welcome embrace.

 

* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *

 

Movement, vibrating through the bed prodded Stone out of the confused dream he was having.  "Pete?" he mumbled, not bothering to open his eyes.

"It's all right," the blond replied softly.  "Just getting ready for that hot date."

"Mmm," Stone replied, rolling onto his back, his arms coming up to rest above his head.  Sleep pulled him back into its folds, Sinclair's words not really registering.  In fact nothing at all registered until he felt fingers rubbing lightly across his nipples.

Stone smiled faintly and started to reach for the teasing hands, but his wrists were both trapped inside the supple folds of a thick satin cord.  He tested the soft restraints and determined that he could easily escape if he really wanted to, but he didn't want to, not in the slightest.  He tugged again.  The cords were anchored to two of the brass rods in the headboard.

Before Stone could open his eyes, Peter slipped a strip of black satin over them, saying, "Lift your head."

The American complied, and Sinclair tied the cloth in place just above his ear where the knot was out of the way.  With the blindfold securely in place, Sinclair traced his fingers over Stone's beard-stubbled cheeks, his nose, chin and lips.  The dark-haired man moaned softly when Peter pulled his lower lip down and ran a single fingertip along the sensitive underside.

Then the hands were gone.

The bed bounced once and Stone strained to hear what his lover was doing, but no sound gave the man away.  "Pete?" he called quietly.

There was no answer.

Stone considered pulling his hands free and looking, but he decided against it. Whatever Sinclair had in mind, he was taking his own sweet time.  _Well_ , Stone decided, _I can wait.  And I'll bet it'll be worth it, too_.  A few minutes later, he heard a faint crunching sound as Sinclair walked across the thick carpet with bare feet.  Then a low rumble filled the quiet room as the heater kicked in.  Stone felt the warm air blow over his exposed arms, stirring the dark hairs in his armpits.

Without saying a word Sinclair lifted each blanket and pulled it off until only the soft flannel sheet remained.  The dark-haired man swallowed, his breath catching when that was tugged down as well, though just far enough to reveal his chest.  He felt his nipples harden before the blond even touched him.

Then there was the silky brush of lips on the tight flesh – a gentle kiss followed by a light lick that sensitized the skin.  Then Peter was sucking mightily, pulling and stretching the skin, his teeth nipping at the hard nubs.

When Sinclair's attack shifted to Stone's other nipple, his fingers replaced his mouth on the first, rolling the nub between his thumb and index finger, squeezing and pulling, mirroring what his mouth as doing.  Beginning to pant slightly, Stone arched his chest, pressing tightly against Sinclair's warm mouth.

Then Peter was gone again.

But this time it was only seconds before Stone felt the sheet moving again, inching slowly down his chest until it rested an inch or so below his belly-button.  The lips returned, and the hands, moving over his ribs, his abdomen, raking hard one moment, feather light the next.  Then Sinclair's warm tongue dove into Stone's navel, poking hard at the dead end opening.  He could feel the blond's soft hair brushing against his skin, the ghost-light touch setting off goose-bumps all over his skin.

Stone ground his ass against the bed.  But a moment later his hips were bucking slightly off the bed as Peter began to lick and suck at the opening.  The flannel sheet felt like a lead blanket, holding his lower body in place, forcing him to endure the slow, methodical exploration and attack.

Then Sinclair was gone again.

Moments stretched painfully into minutes and Stone felt his throbbing erection begin to ease.  When it did, the sheet began to move again, his cock jumping weakly in reply.  Stone groaned.

The soft flannel brushed over his hips, then over the crown of his cock where it was straining again to reach the recently abandoned belly-button.  The cloth continued lightly over the shaft, then tickled his balls as it passed over them and stopped.

But there was no touch.

Stone strained his ears, listening.  He could hear the man's breath, coming slightly faster than normal.  But he wasn't moving.  Sinclair was just standing there at the foot of the bed.

Then it hit him.  Sinclair was standing at the foot of the bed, staring down at Stone's thick nine-inch erection.  The sight of the wine-colored cock was turning him on. The realization made Stone's rod jump with delight.  He wanted to thrust his hips up, invite the man to feast, but this was Sinclair's show and the next move was up to him.

And it wasn't long before Stone found out what that next move would be.  The flannel sheet continued down his legs, then up and over his feet.  The hands returned, this time lifting one of his legs by the ankle and moving it closer to the edge of the bed.  Stone could feel Sinclair's hands trembling slightly, reveling his own in-check excitement.

The cool weight of another satin cord slipped around Stone's ankle.  It wasn't tied to anything, but the light weight was enough for Stone and his cock throbbed with anticipation.

His other leg was lifted and moved, another cord locking it in place.

Lying spread-eagled, Stone squeezed his ass tightly, helping to lessen the demand building in his balls.

The hands returned, pushing their way up the inside of Stone's thighs, but stopping short of his groin.  Lips rained kisses along his hipbones, teeth occasionally biting into his flesh just hard enough to make the ex-SEAL groan with increasing need.

Stone could smell Sinclair's arousal, the sexy musk making him even harder.  Then, before he even realized that Peter had climbed onto the bed between his legs, Sinclair's mouth connected with Stone's sack.  He licked the skin, moving the testicles inside around as he did, then opened his mouth and sucked one of the hard balls inside, rolling it around on the surface of his tongue.

Stone's knees rose slightly, then fell back down.  He pressed his ass hard against the mattress, groaning when Peter exchanged one ball for the other.  Sinclair rocked back, tugging the sack delightfully.  Stone forced himself to remain locked in place, but when the blond pressed his tongue against the underside of Stone's cock and rubbed all the way up to the tip, the American thrust his hips up, begging for more.

Peter moved, Stone feeling the bed give way next to him a moment before the blond's lips closed over his straining crown, causing him to arch his back and plunge his hips up against Peter's face.  The play of lips and tongue against his turgid rod soon had precome oozing out in a steady stream.  Sinclair licked it away, then backed off.

The air, stirred by the heater, blew cold over Stone's wet cock.  "Pete?" he moaned softly.

"Shhh…  Soon," was the only reply.

The bed gave again, and Sinclair was straddling him.  The tip of the blond's cock gently brushed Stone's lips.

The dark-haired man's tongue flicked out, teasing the tip of the shaft, tasting just a hint of salty precome.  He licked all around the head, then Sinclair rocked forward, sliding his whole cock into Stone's waiting mouth.  The musky taste and smell drove the American wild, and he stopped humping his hips so he wouldn't shoot his load right there.

He let his tongue explore, tracing the veins, rubbing under the edge of the head, poking at the tiny, leaking slit.  Sinclair groaned and pushed himself hard against Stone's face.

Feeling Pete's ball pull up tight against the base of his cock, Stone closed his mouth, shielding his teeth with his lips, and tightened his hold while still moving his tongue up and down the underside of the shaft and around the head.

Sinclair stepped up his thrusts, moving in and out of Stone's mouth, each drag over the dark-haired man's lips making him moan.

"Stop," Peter finally said thickly.  "Stone, stop."

Not wanting to let the bullet-like cock out of his mouth, Stone sucked once more, then let Sinclair pull himself free.  He felt the blond shift his weight a moment before Sinclair shifted off of him and off the bed.

A moment later he was back.

"I'm going to untie your hands," Peter said.  "But leave the blindfold on."

Stone felt the cords sliding over his skin, then they were gone.

"Hold out your hand," Sinclair ordered.

The ex-SEAL did as ordered and felt the oil as it filled his cupped palm.

"Rub it over your cock."

Stone rubbed his hands together, then grabbed his cock and rubbed the oil on with long strokes.

Sinclair climbed back onto the bed, this time straddling Stone's hips.  "You'd better stretch me open."

Stone's cock jumped, wanting what he knew was coming, but he reached out, blindly finding Peter's ass.  His slick fingers quickly located the man's crack and the tight, puckered opening.  He pressed the tip of his index finger against the ring of muscle, the oil allowing him to slide inside.  Sinclair grunted softly and rocked back, impaling himself deeper on the exploring digit.

Stone worked his finger in further, then pulled it out and pressed two inside.  Moving his fingers back and forth, he carefully stretched Peter's opening.

"Stop," the blond panted.  "I'm ready.  Hold it."

Stone reached down and gripped the root of his cock.  He used the tip to find Sinclair's hole, positioning himself for the blond.

Peter pressed down until he swallowed the head of Stone's rod.  The American sucked in a breath, unable to stop himself from pressing his hips up, embedding himself a little deeper in the tight, hot passage.  Together they continued until Stone was completely buried.

"Don't move," Sinclair ordered.

Stone stopped, just enjoying the feel of himself submerged in the man's ass.  Then he felt Peter's muscles grab his cock and squeeze.  What was he doing?  Then he knew.  Sinclair was jacking himself off.  Stone relaxed and listened.  He could hear the man's oil-slick hand rubbing up and down his cock, the push and pull vibrating through his body to tease Stone's own trapped cock.  The blond's muscles clutched at Stone's rod, and his balls ground into his pubic hair.  He could feel Sinclair's asshole clenching, his hips jerking in short, tight thrusts.  Then the blond was pulling himself up and shoving himself back down on Stone's cock, impaling himself over and over.

"Pete…"

Sinclair froze, panting for breath.  A few moments later he lifted himself off Stone.

"Damn, Pete—"  A hand covered his mouth, ending the comment.

Stone listened again.  He heard Pete pull the pillows away from the headboard.

"Roll over," Sinclair ordered.

Stone complied.  Feeling the pillows, he lifted himself onto them.  Then the satin cords were snugged around his wrists again, tighter than before.  He was fastened for real this time.  That done, Sinclair moved back to his feet, securing his ankles to the brass rods at the foot of the bed.

"The last time we did this, you said you wanted to be tied up the next time," Sinclair said softly.  "Well, Sport, you are.  And I'm going to have my way with your arse."

Stone groaned into the mattress, his body tingling with anticipation.

Placing his legs between Stone's, Peter spread the American wide, then pressed the tip of his oil-slick cock against the back of Stone's balls, poking them.

Stone felt the blond lean forward, then settle back.  A moment later some of the oil hit the top of his crack, running down over his hole to the tip of Peter's cock. Then the blond was moving, using his cock to rub the oil into his skin, teasing at his opening.  Stone pressed up and back, trying to force the man inside, but Sinclair put his hands on his butt cheeks and pushed him into the pillows, holding him down as he pressed the tip of his head against his opening.

With a quick thrust Sinclair penetrated Stone's ass, making the American groan. Then, still holding the dark-haired man down, he plowed deeper into his bowels.  Stone loved the feeling of Peter pressing deeper and deeper inside of him, but the Brit was determined to take his time.  He leaned forward, nibbling on Stone's ear and kissing along the side of his face and neck, while still sliding his rock-hard cock in and out of Stone's ass with deep, powerful strokes.  At times Sinclair slowed his pace, withdrawing his cock until only the head remained buried, then slowly sliding the hard shaft up Stone's canal while reaching under the American's hips and lifting his ass up to meet his strokes.

Soon the pace quickened, Sinclair deepening his penetration.  Stone was lost in the sensations each powerful stroke set off and he moaned into the pillows.  Then Peter's hands were reaching under him, gripping his shoulders firmly, shoving Stone farther into the pillows as pulling himself farther up on, and inside of, him.  Stone's hips moved in rhythm with the motion of the hard cock plowing up his ass.

Surrendering to the onslaught, Stone felt Peter's cock becoming harder and thicker.

Sinclair tightened his grip on Stone's shoulders and brought his hips up higher on the American's ass, allowing him to go in even deeper.  He placed his mouth next to Stone's ear and whispered, his lips just brushing the skin, "I'm about to give you my load.  Do you want it?"

Stone moaned.

"Do you want it?" Sinclair repeated, not missing a stroke as he intensified his thrusts, shoving his in and out of Stone as fast as he could.

"No," Stone whispered, "not yet.  Don't want t' stop yet."

Sinclair's pace slowed and he straightened.  His hands moved back to Stone's ass, squeezing his cheeks together and pushing them apart.  Then, holding them apart, Sinclair pulled out until just his head was still buried inside.  He circled his hip until Stone was shoving his ass back, begging to he impaled.

Sinclair was happy to oblige, driving deeper and deeper inside until his balls slapped against Stone's as he bucked backwards, forcing Peter in as far as he could go.

"I can't wait any longer," the blond growled, bending over and shoving his face deep into the pillow beside Stone's head, his hips pistoning his cock deep inside the ex-SEAL.

Stone cried out when he felt the hot fluid flood his intestines and he came without ever having touched himself.  Sinclair yelled into the pillow with him, his body jerking violently as it emptied itself.

Sinclair's body hung limp over Stone's for what seemed like an eternity.  Neither of them moved until their breathing returned to normal and Peter's cock had receded, withdrawing itself from Stone's ass.  Then the blond shifted, untying Stone and moving with him to cuddle in the center of the bed after he untied the blindfold and tossed it onto the floor.  Cradled in each other's arms, they fell back to sleep.

 

* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *

 

Sinclair woke to the smell of bacon frying and the sound of soft jazz music.  He rolled over and lay for a moment, enjoying the completely-drained feeling in his groin.  Then he pushed himself up and got up, heading straight for the bathroom.  Nature assuaged, he walked to his closet, opened it and pulled out his robe.  Shrugging that one, he headed for the kitchen.

Stone stood at the stove, dressed only in sweatpants.  He grinned at Peter and gestured at the coffeepot, "It's fresh."

"Thanks," Sinclair replied, veering straight for the pot.  He poured himself a cup and took a sip, then set it down to cool.  He turned to Stone and smiled.  "So, was that good?"

Stone grinned and looked away, his cheeks turning rosy.  "Uh, yeah, it was great."

Peter stepped up closer, wrapping his arms around Stone's chest from behind him.  The American pressed back against the blond.  "Hmm," Sinclair sighed, "glad you liked that.  I've been planning that for a while, but the time never seemed right."

"And you thought it would get my mind off the kid," Stone concluded.

"Did it work?"

"It worked, all right," Stone assured.  "You hungry?"

"Starved," Sinclair replied, his hands straying up to tease Stone's nipples.

The ex-SEAL chuckled.  "Food, Pete, I'm talkin' food."

"You mean that artery-clogging concoction you're making?"

"Hey, if you wanna make yourself some oatmeal, feel free."

"Not on your life."  Sinclair released his hold on his lover, adding, "But we'll have to exercise after breakfast."

Stone grinned.  "What'd ya have in mind, Pete."

"Oh, I'm sure we can think of something."

"I'm sure we can," Stone replied, already making plans.

The End


End file.
